Cornered
by illocust
Summary: Shiro's worst nightmare has happened. He's been recaptured by the Galra and forced to fight once again. Except this time Keith is with him. Alpha Shiro/Alpha Keith Verse
1. Chapter 1

Shiro snarls at the guards who shove him into the cell. Bastards think it's funny to make him kill then lock him away. He's half tempted to attack them despite their better armaments and numbers. See how they like fighting to survive on the whims of others.

They laugh. Know he won't make good on his threat. Punishments not worth the satisfaction, so he watches as they slam the heavy metal of the door closed and go on their way.

"Shiro?" Keith is there, as if appearing from the ether itself. His hands tugging at the hole in his clothes where a claw just barely missed tearing skin, "Are you okay?" Shiro can see the others in the cell taking interest. The Champion, fresh from a fight, allowing himself to be touched without permission. They're zeroing in on Keith, noting him as a potential weakness.

Shiro catches his wrist, holds it away from him, "I'm fine," He is, barely a bruise. They didn't even take him to see the medic before dragging him back to the cell. Keith isn't, though. Shiro zeroes in on the slight swell of Keith's busted lip. That wasn't there when he left. Guards? No, the damage would be more severe. When they hit a prisoner, they were making a point, an object lesson. Must have been one of the prisoners. "Who?" Shiro runs his thumb across the injury.

There is no confusion about what he's talking about. Keith grits his teeth, glares up at him, "I handled it," Keith says, the slightest rumble in his voice. Challenging Shiro, daring him to push things further. This is not the place for this. Too many unfriendly eyes. There is no privacy in the crowded cells, but there are locations that are not center stage.

He strides forward, tows Keith along behind him by the wrist he still hasn't let go. Heads towards the least occupied part of the cell. A look and the current resident of the back corner evacuates. He puts his back to the wall, pulls Keith with him. The implication is clear. This is between the Champion and his mate, go back to your conversations or else.

"Who?" He asks again, just barely above a whisper. He won't ignore someone hurting Keith. He's too precious to him for that.

Keith yanks his wrist out of Shiro's grip, "I can defend myself," Keith hisses back.

"That's not the point," Shiro says, a little too loudly. He can see an nearby alien's ear twitch in interest.

"Then what is the point?" Keith retorts, getting close. There is barely an inch between their faces.

"You shouldn't-" Shiro stops. He doesn't know what comes next. Not in words. He just knows Keith shouldn't have to defend himself from this range of prisoners and criminals. He shouldn't be here, period. The younger alpha should have never seen the inside of Galra cell.

"Exactly," Keith says lowly, "I'm not a child. Don't you dare treat me like one." Shiro clenches his jaws. Digs his nails into his palms, as frustration bubbles up.

"I don't think you're a child," Shiro hisses back, "I just, just…" Shiro spots one of the other prisoner edging closer. Trying to eavesdrop over the noise of everyone else in the cell talking. He growls at the interluding alien. This is his space with his mate. His. If the prisoner knows what's good for them, they'll turn around and go back the way they came.

Keith adds his snarl to Shiro's own and the alien turns tail and flees. Keith seems to deem that the end of the argument. Shiro, despite his churning mind, still can't figure out how to vocalize his reasons to protect in a way that won't insult the other alpha, so when Keith sits down, he follows. The warm press of his mate by his side isn't as comforting as it should be. The sensation is a constant reminder of how wrong this situation is.

One of his few comforts in his last captivity was that at least Keith was safe at home. Now he has dragged his mate into this hell with him. He hasn't been forced to fight yet, but it's only a matter of time until his hands have to be stained with the blood of the innocents too. He hates that he hopes that happens. That the other option, that Keith won't come back the first time he's taken from the cell, is too hard to contemplate.

At some point, the smaller alpha finds his way into Shiro's lap, and nods off snuggled against his chest. He can't follow him, no matter how much he tries. He knows he used to be able to sleep on these hard floors, with potential hostiles all around, but a little time in the safety of the Castle has robbed him of that ability. Every time sleep approaches him, the image of someone sneaking up on them renders him wide awake once again.

It's nightmarish, and also why, when they finally do come for Keith, Shiro is conscious to see them.

* * *

 _ **Note:**_

 _ **This will likely have one or two sequels.**_


	2. Chapter 2

The first time he and Shiro are thrown into the cell, Keith nearly throws up from the smell. The putrid scent from thousands of terrified aliens has soaked into the walls and fermented. Fear, stress, anxiety, and other less savory things stewing for hundreds of years until the noxious mix has bonded with the dull metal. Even the hose they use to wash down the new prisoners can't separate them.

Things don't get better from there. Shiro's changing in front of his eyes. Not in the way paranoia tenses his muscles in constant readiness to fight, nor in how his normally friendly demeanor shuts itself away, where others can't take advantage. That's survival, and Keith knows he's guarding himself as well. Shiro's changing in relation to Keith.

He's behaving more and more possessive, more protective. Like Keith is a rare vase that's going to shatter or a damsel in a wharf tavern. Shiro guards him, backs him into corners, growls at anyone that gets too close, then gets aggressive when he does the same. He loves him with every fiber of his being, but things between them where never meant to be one way.

He doesn't want to fight. They're alone, surrounded by neutral to violently hostile aliens, and he wants to close ranks with his mate. Shiro is making it so hard, though. Insisting on standing in front instead of beside.

He longs for the privacy to lick wounds and pry Shiro out of his shell long enough to talk some sense into him, but they won't be getting that here. For now, all he can do is hold his ground and his mate until this nightmare is over.

* * *

 _ **End Note:**_

 _ **Short because I'm working myself back into writing.**_


	3. Chapter 3

"The small one." A big Galra guard points to Keith and his mate's corners. Shiro's fingers are digging into his sides. His whole chest vibrating with his growl. Keith elbows Shiro hard enough to force him to let go. He won't let the other Alpha fight this. The guards will take him no matter what they do. Shiro doesn't need to get hurt to.

"I'll survive," Keith whispers, squeezing Shiro's wrist before approaching the entrance to the cell. He can't promise anything more. He's seen too many broken and bloodied bodies be dragged back to the cells still technically well enough to 'fight' another day.

The door clanks shut behind him. One of the guards grabs his bicep and drags him along, paying no heed to his growl or ability to walk along on his own. He's taken past countless cells, all containing their own selection of poor souls enslaved for the Empire's entertainment, but only when they begin their ride in an elevator does he start to realize he might not be going to the arena. The slaves are kept close the Colosseum entrances. Helps minimize the amount of time the gladiators have to cause trouble for the guards. They've already passed ten floors, and look to be heading somewhere far into the ship.

Where are they taking him? Could the druids be interested in him so soon? Unlike when Shiro was first captured, he's not just a single specimen from some unimportant species. He's the Red Paladin, someone might be interested in seeing what makes him tick. He refuses to allow himself to think of exactly how they will do that. He won't give them the satisfaction of his fear.

The elevator doors open and he's dragged out into hall much nicer than the ones below. High arching ceilings, regularly posted drones standing watch, and if these shiny floors ever saw blood it has long been polished away. This is not the druid's area of the ship.

A grand doorway is pushed open, and Keith suddenly finds himself face to face with Voltron's greatest enemy since Zarkon was sent to his death bed. "The smaller human prisoner as requested, my Prince." Lotor smiles and waves dismissively at the guards. They leave with a salute and a Vrepti Sa. Unfortunately, that doesn't leave him alone with the Prince. Scattered unobtrusively around what looks to be a receiving rooms are various fully armed guards and drones. One on one he might get lucky and rip Lotor's throat out with his teeth, but outnumbered as he is, he'd be lucky to close the difference before he was taken to the floor.

He squares his shoulders, lets his teeth show in a snarl. He may have been captured, but he has not been cowed. Lotor approaches him easily, so dismissive of his strength he doesn't even bother with a display of his own. Keith lets out a low warning growl. Lotor just smirks, "I see captivity hasn't altered your demeanor. Good, I rather liked your feisty personality." One of the Prince's hands move to touch his face and Keith snaps his teeth. Guards or not, he will take off another chunk of flesh if Lotor tries to get familiar with him. That finally gets Lotor to acknowledge his threat, his face twisting in anger, "Behave," He snarls, "Or you will be gagged and bound for this conversation."

"Keep your hands to yourself then," Keith snarls back. The Prince is either stupid or has spent far too long surrounded by those living in terror of his whims. What kind of Alpha would actually just stand there and let Lotor do whatever he wants.

Lotor's hand comes up. Keith prepares to block and hit back. Fighting he understands. The slap doesn't come. As quickly as the anger came it's replaced by calm. Lotor lowers his hand and a cruel smile twists his lips, "The Galatic grapevines have been alive with tales that the Champion and the Red Paladin are involved together." Lotor motions to one of his guards who approaches with a salute, "Why don't you be polite and speak like a civilized person, or I can grant the druids the access to the Champion they've been requesting."

* * *

 _ **End Note:**_

 _ **Some people wanted to see Lotor again, so I'd figured I'd give him a chance to actually get some lines of dialogue this time. First time writing him, so testing out his personality.**_


	4. Chapter 4

Keith has been gone for too long. He's listened, counted the clacking steps of drone patrols to measure the passage of time. Any match they'd throw his relatively unknown mate into should be over by now. Is Keith..is he? He smells blood, his own blood. Shiro looks down to where his nails are digging bloody crescents into his palms. He forces his fist to unclench. Keith has to be okay. He has too. He can't have lost the thing he cares most for in this universe. If he'd just died in his first fight, none of this would have ever happened. His mate would still be safe back on earth. Lonely but safe, instead of-instead of..

The door to the cell screeches open. He looks up, and Keith is being shoved into the cell. Shiro is there, checking him over for injuries, before the door slams shut again. There are none, not even the persistent sand from the arena floor that always seems to cling to the prison uniforms. He tilts Keith's chin up, something is off with his eyes. He can't tell what until he sniffs. Keith smells like alcohol.

"Where were you?" Shiro hisses. He hadn't been fighting. He didn't look traumatized enough for the druids. Where could he have possibly been that involved him drinking while Shiro was thinking he was dead.

Keith blinks at him slowly, "Nothing happened," Keith says, tone subdued. No defensive anger to match Shiro's aggression, "Can we go sit down?" Keith sways unsteadily in his hands. He's drunk. He's not angry enough and he's drunk. Why is he just? Shiro lets out a frustrated growl. Pulling Keith under one of his arms and guiding him back to their corner.

Keith all but collapses to the floor. Shiro sits beside him, pinning the smaller alpha between the wall and his own mass. He still wants answers, but he wants the other prisoners to be able to get close to his mate in this state even less. Keith leans his head against Shiro's shoulder. Something familiar tickles his nose. Shiro presses his nose to Keith's hair and breathes deep. The smells of unfamiliar alcohol and Keith are strong, but under that, fainter is, "Why do you smell like Lotor?" Shiro growls.

Keith shivers, "Nothing happened," Keith repeats quietly, then after a pause, "He wanted to talk." Lotor wanted to talk to Keith? Why? A thought, passing, but the last time Lotor had been near Keith…

"What did he do?" He will find a way to kill the Prince.

Keith's fingers interlace with his own pulling up the hand closest to him and kisses the knuckles, "Nothing, dinner and drinks, that's all." He could be telling the truth, he doesn't smell more no matter how deeps he breathes, but there are lots of ways to get rid of scents.

"Lotor doesn't pull prisoners from the cells for no reason." Shiro whispers, someone has probably already overheard the topic of their conversation, but he doesn't need to make it easy for them. Keith sighs. It takes him a moment to realize that he's not going to answer him, "Keith." Shiro jostles him.

Keith lifts his head and blinks at him owlishly, "I'm tired," He says.

"Answer my question," He needs to know what the Prince wanted with his mate. Why he got him drunk and then sent him back to his cell. What if anything happened.

"Nothing happened," Shiro snarls at hearing that line again, it was never reassuring, less so the more it's repeated, "I'm going to sleep," Keith says, laying his head back on Shiro's shoulder.

"Keith, Keith!" Keith refuses to speak to him further, no matter how many times he hisses his name. Shiro is left with a sleeping mate pressed against his side and no answers.

.

The Castle comes for them early the next day.

* * *

 _ **End Note:**_

 _ **I'll let ya'll guess what happened, before I give any answers. This is the end of Cornered.**_


	5. Epilogue Fic - Free At Last

_**Epilogue fic.**_

Shiro is nibbling at his scent gland again. He should stop him. He's going to hurt later if he doesn't, but for once the stress gesture feels comforting for him too. Somewhere over their time in the Castle, Shiro's compulsive behaviors have started to feel normal. Like how things are supposed to be.

When they were in the Galra cell, everything had been wrong. He'd felt like the ground had shifted out from under him. His mate's distress had been so strong he could taste it, but he hadn't sought to bury himself in Keith's scent. He knew why. That hadn't been the place to drop guards, yet the wrongness of it all had eaten away at his insides.

Being back in their bed, with Shiro worrying at his neck for comfort, soothes the little parts of him that can't quite believe they escaped. He's home, both he and his mate are safe. Shiro won't be forced to fight in the arena again, and Keith got out before he had to..His shiver has nothing to do with the temperature.

Shiro's lips leave his skin. He doesn't have to look to know grey eyes are trained down on him in concern. Keith closes his eyes and tries to bury his face into his pillow. He doesn't want to talk. He just wants to lay here with his mate acting like he should. Is that too much to ask?

The arm wrapped around his torso pulls him back tighter into Shiro's chest, and he feels something pressing against the side of his face. He realizes a second later that Shiro is marking him. Rubbing his scent into Keith's hair and neck. Claiming his mate. It's something he didn't know he needed. Their bed, their intermingled scents, the feel of Shiro's chest rising and falling against his back.

He could almost pretend the nearly whine comes from Shiro. Concern for his well being, but he knows, even if he'll never admit it, that the needy noise is his own. There is a soft nip at his jaw and Shiro rolls them until Keith's all but smushed under him. Protected from the world. The tension he's been carrying since their capture still refuses to leave.

"You know I love you right?" Shiro's cheek is pressed directly against his own as he speaks, "I'll always love you, no matter what happens." Shiro continues. He's aware, right now. Sometimes his own issues curl up and strangle even the most fundamental pieces of his universe, but this moment isn't one of those where he doubts he can be loved.

"I know," Keith whispers. Shiro's building up to something, better to get it over with now than to let it stew.

"You can tell me anything. No matter what, I'll still love you afterward." Shiro pressed down a little harder, like he's trying to make testament to his words.

"This is about Lotor isn't it?" Keith sighs. This topic had to come up sooner or later. He's surprised Shiro had dropped it for as long as he had, since Keith refused to answer him in the cell.

"You don't have to talk now, but I'll listen when you're ready," No, Shiro had a right to know. Especially now that there was no longer reason to fear his reaction getting him hurt.

"Nothing happened," This time the almost whine really does come from Shiro, "Not what you think at least," He knows Shiro has assumed the worst, and the most important thing is that he knows that that didn't happen, "He wanted to talk, and because he's Lotor he made a show of it with a meal. Insisted the civilized thing was to finish my glass. I don't know what it was," The drink had been blood red and served in a goblet obviously designed for a race averaging seven feet in height. Lotor had laughed at his inability to walk straight afterward.

"You smelled like him," Shiro says while rubbing himself along Keith. Like he can still smell the scent he washed off as soon as entering the castle and wants to cover it with his own.

"Nothing below the clothes," Lotor had refused to discuss what he wanted from Keith until after the meal, then insisted they go on a walk to do so. Forcing Keith to walk tucked under his arm after he'd stumbled. His skin had practically vibrated from the need to commit violence, "Just rubbing it in that I couldn't bite him." Shiro doesn't ask why he couldn't attack Lotor. His mate is too familiar with the many ways the Galra have of keeping their prisoners in line.

"What did he want to tell you?" Shiro asks. He must have been quiet for too long.

"He wanted me to join his harem," Shiro's growl is completely expected. Keith had reacted the same way despite the threats against his mate, "He said if I didn't he'd arrange for us to have a death match against each other in the arena," And what kind of choice was that. He couldn't kill Shiro, and he'd never be able to convince Shiro to kill him. They'd both be executed for refusing to fight, or through some stroke of fate live with the murder of their mate. Becoming a spoiled prince's sex slave was a horrifying and demeaning but still preferable option.

Shiro's stops breathing above him. His mate has nightmares about this exact situation. Waking up panicked, shaking Keith awake, just to see for himself that he's still alive and not bled out on the arena sands. Keith gets a hand free just enough to scratch behind Shiro's ear, "It's okay. I wouldn't let him do that to you," Keith reassures. He'd suffer anything the Prince could dish out if it would keep his mate healthy and whole.

Shiro breathes in again, "No," Shiro whispers, "No, baby, no, tell me you didn't. He didn't?" Back to thinking the worst case scenario.

"No, I told you. Nothing happened. He sent me back to the cell to think it over for the night," More of Lotor's playing at being not the scum of the galaxy, pretending that he was giving Keith a genuine offer that he could refuse.

"You were going to, though," Keith doesn't bother confirming. Shiro's knows that there was only one acceptable option, "If we hadn't been rescued, you were going to tell him yes. You were going to leave the cell without telling me what was going on," Shiro's voice takes on the edge of anger, propping himself up on an elbow so he could look Keith in the eye, "Leave me without knowing what happened to you and if you were even alive or dead."

Oh, he hadn't thought about Shiro thinking he was dead. What else could he think when Keith didn't come back? No, still, he'd made the best choice he could think of at the time, "I couldn't tell you," Keith hisses, rolling over on his back so he can glare up at Shiro, "You weren't behaving like yourself," He can see Shiro's minute flinch at the accusation, "If I told you, you would have done something to get yourself hurt."

"I'm not an animal," He can see the flash of pain in Shiro's eyes, "I can control myself. I survived for a year on my own." Key words on his own. He was Shiro's weak point, and Shiro was his. They were compromised when it came to the other.

"Would you have let me go, when the guards came, knowing what Lotor was going to do," Keith asks, as calmly as he can muster. Shiro start, stops, stares down with big eyes, before making a wounded noise. He knows Keith's right, he couldn't stand by and watch them take his mate away for that, "That's why I didn't tell you." Keith rolls back over to his side, facing away.

Shiro stays propped up a minute more, before curling around Keith's back again. Rationally he shouldn't be angry. How can he blame Shiro for how he behaved when put through his own personal hell. Especially when the worst he'd done was be overprotective of the thing he cared most about in that cell. He should understand, but he can't help the hurt that has been festering.

"I needed you," They'd already opened up the can of worms, might as well get it all out, "I needed someone to talk to, and I couldn't talk to you." Shiro's hand clenches against his chest, and Shiro lets out a little huff of breath. His brows are probably furrowing, like they tend to do in situations like this.

"You can talk to me now," Shiro says quietly, "I'll listen." He would too. He could so easily turn this around on Keith. Say if he wanted to talk, he should have talked when Shiro asked in the cell, but no, he'd ignore that Keith just accused him of not being there for him. Listen because that's what Keith needed, and this was why he loved him.

"Lotor thinks I'm pretty," Keith finally gets it out. The words that have refused to leave his head since. Lotor had gone on about it at length during their meal. Keith hadn't even been able to snipe back, after the Prince made clear he considered that not behaving, "Like an omega. He said he understood why you skipped over their comforts for someone who looked like me." No matter how much he tried to pretend differently, it was hard to ignore that his mate filled several physical categories of an ideal alpha that he fell short of. Despite his constant training, the arm wrapped around him was twice the size of his own. That had been true even before Shiro bulked up in the arena.

Shiro sucks in a breath, "Baby, that's not true," That's his mate, always quick to soothe his bruised ego, even when done so by a hit of the truth, "You don't look like an omega, and your appearance isn't why I'm with you."

"You think I'm pretty, though," He'd said so on multiple occasions. Not as often as he called him cute or gorgeous but often enough.

"I find you attractive for who you are," Shiro presses a kiss to the back of his hair, "I didn't ever mean it like that. I'm so sorry. I'll stop using that word." That wasn't what he meant.

"I don't mind. I mean, I didn't mind," Keith lets out a frustrated breath, "I don't know," When Shiro called him pretty he didn't feel less, it felt like long desired adoration to be coveted, but when Lotor did it, "The way he said it. It's different, and I just…Why me?" That's what it all boiled down to, more than the words used. The sentiment of targeting him specifically, "If he wanted pretty, there is a whole galaxy of omegas to choose from, and if he wanted a human alpha, why me and not you?" He didn't want Lotor to make a pass at Shiro, but the fact he'd had plenty of access to him and had chosen Keith anyways, "What does that say about me?" How pretty was he, how much less of an alpha in alien eyes?

"Nothing," Shiro's voice holds no trace of doubt, "It says nothing at all. Lotor didn't pick you because of how you look," He seems so certain, "You're a paladin of Voltron. The one who piloted the Black Lion, when he came to power. The biggest thorn in his side in the universe. That's why he chose you." Shiro presses a kiss behind his ear before continuing, "If this was happening to anyone else, you'd see that." It's a logic he can sink his teeth into. Something he should have realized on his own, if he hadn't been so drunk and worried about Shiro. Why him and not the actual omegas on the team, or anyone else in the universe.

The tension, the tightness he couldn't get to ease since the escape, finally relaxes, "Thanks babe, you always know what to say."

Shiro huffs a laugh, "I have to do something to pull my weight in this relationship."

"Love you,"

"Love you too"

* * *

 _ **End Note:**_

 _ **I'm really happy how this turned out, got to touch on some of the issues Keith has that have been brushed barely in previous fics, and also got to let these two air out their problems after the strain put on their relationship by the rest of Cornered.**_


End file.
